III — Ki-nuk′-si Is-si-sak′-ta (Little River)
August 2
We moved over here on Little River—or, as the whites have named it, Milk River—day before yesterday, and made camp at the lower edge of the great body of timber in which the stream has its source. We are here on the Blackfeet Indian Reservation, and several miles from the boundary line of the Glacier National Park. The state game laws do not apply to the reservation, hence we have the right to hunt upon it when and where we please.
Yesterday Takes-Gun-Ahead and I oiled our rifles and started out after meat. We went up the river, passing the old beaver dams that White Fur and Loud Slap built in the long ago, and presently, in the dense growth of pine, cottonwood, and willow, came upon old and fresh tracks of deer and elk. We followed for a time the trail of four or five elk, and left it to take the very fresh trail of a moose. Takes-Gun-Ahead was in the lead, and within ten minutes he saw the animal not fifty yards away, standing partly concealed behind a clump of willows and watching our approach. Its head was in plain view, and he fired and struck it just at the base of the ear, and it fell, gave a convulsive kick or two, and was dead when we got to it. It was a three-year-old bull, and carried a very ordinary set of antlers, velvet-covered and still soft at the points. I dressed the carcass while my companion went back for a horse, and before noon we had real meat—ni-tap′-i-wak-sin—in camp. We distributed it among the lodges, and there was great rejoicing. Later in the day, Two Guns and Black Bull brought in a fine buck mule deer, and at sunset Big Spring returned with the meat and skin of a yearling ram that he had killed on the outer point of Divide Mountain. It was like old times,—the camp red with meat,—and we all felt rich and happy.
The killing of the moose in this particular place brought out a lot of reminiscences of happenings here on Little River in other days, and of them all I think that Takes-Gun-Ahead’s story was the best. As the pipe went the first round after our feast of roast moose ribs in Black Bull’s lodge, said he: “I will tell you the story of
“Old Man and the Wolves
“One day in that long ago time, Old Man was wandering along the edge of this forest, having come over from Cutbank way. He was feeling very lonely, and wondering what he could do to have a more lively time, when, as he approached the river here, probably right where we are camped, he saw a band of six wolves sitting on the bank, watching him. He stopped short, watched them for a time, and then approached them, whining out: ‘My younger brothers! My younger brothers! I am very lonely! Take pity on me: let me be a wolf with you!’
“As I have said, the wolves were six: the old father and mother, their two daughters, and their sons, Heavy Body and Long Body. The old father wolf answered Old Man. ‘Just what do you mean?’ he asked. ‘Is it that you want me to change you into a wolf—that you want to live just as we do?’
“‘I want to live with you, hunt with you,’ he answered, ‘but I don’t want to be changed wholly into a wolf. Just make my head and neck to look like yours, and put wolf hair on my legs and arms, and that will be about enough of a change. I will keep my body just as it is.’
“‘Very well, we will do that for you,’ said the old wolf; and he took a gray medicine and rubbed it on Old Man’s head and neck and legs and arms, and made the change. ‘There!’ said he. ‘My work is done. I would like to have made you all wolf, your body as well as the rest of you, but you will do as you are; you are quite wolf-like. And now, let me tell you something about our family. My old wife and I don’t hunt much. Your two younger brothers there are the runners and killers, and their sisters help in the way of heading off and confusing the game. Your younger brother there, Long Body, is the swiftest runner, but he hasn’t the best of wind. However, he generally overtakes and kills whatever he chases. Your other younger brother, Heavy Body, is not a fast runner, but he has great staying power, never gets winded, and in the end brings down his game. And now you know them. Whenever you feel like hunting, one or the other of them, as you choose, will go with you.’
“‘You are very kind to me,’ said Old Man. ‘I am now very tired, but to-morrow I shall want to hunt with one or the other of them.’
“‘We are also tired; we have come a long way; it is best that we all rest during this night,’ said the old wolf; and he led the way up to the top of a high ridge on the north side of the valley, where all lay down.
“‘But why rest out on top of this barren, windy place, instead of in the shelter of the timber?’ Old Man asked, his teeth beginning to chatter from the cold.
“‘We never rest in the timber,’ the old wolf replied. ‘There enemies would have a good chance to take us unawares. Here we can see afar everything that moves, and as one or another of us is always on watch, we can keep out of danger. Also, we can look down and see the different kinds of game, and make our plans to chase what we want, head it off, tire it out, and kill it. We always, summer and winter, do our resting and sleeping on high places.’
“Before the night was far gone, Old Man became so cold that he trembled all over, and, try as he would, he could not keep his jaws together.
“‘You annoy us with your tremblings, and your teeth chatterings; you keep us from sleeping,’ the old wolf complained.
“‘Well, I shall not annoy you long,’ Old Man answered, ‘because I shall soon freeze to death!’
“The old wolf aroused his wife and children: ‘This tender-bodied elder brother of ours is freezing. I suppose we have to protect him. Lie down in a circle around him and cover him with your tails,’ he told them.
“They did so, and he was soon overcome with heat: ‘Take your ill-smelling tails from my body; I am wet with perspiration!’ he gasped. They removed their tails and he soon began to shiver. ‘Put them back! I freeze!’ he cried; and they did as he commanded. During the night he had them cover him many times with their tails, and as many times remove them. He passed a miserable night, and so did the wolves, for he kept them from sleeping.
“At break of day all arose, and, looking down into the valley, saw a lone, buck mule deer feeding farther and farther away from the timber. They made a plan for capturing it. They all sneaked around into the timber, and then Long Body and Old Man crept down the valley until the buck saw them and ran, and then they chased it. Long Body soon pulled it down, and Old Man came up in time to seize and break its neck, and felt very proud of himself. The other wolves soon came to the kill, and all feasted. The carcass lasted them two days.
“Again and again they went to the top of the ridge to pass the night, and Old Man soon became so used to the cold that he did not need tail covering. When the deer was eaten, they killed another one, and then a buffalo bull, which lasted them some days. Then, after two failures in chasing antelope and some hungry days, Long Body killed a big bull elk, just outside the timber here. They were several days eating it, but at last all the meat and the soft bones were finished, and nothing but the backbone and the hard leg bones remained. Said the old wolf then: ‘We must be saving of what we have left, for it may be some time before we can make another killing. To-day we will take turns chewing the upper bone of a hind leg.’
“They gathered in a small circle with one of the bones, noses to the center, and the old wolf said to Old Man: ‘Now, while this chewing is going on, bone splinters are bound to fly. You must keep your eyes tight shut until it comes your turn to chew, else you may get a splinter that will blind you.’
“Old Man did as he was told. The old wolf began the chewing, and after gnawing off the end of the bone, and getting a little of the marrow, called out to his wife that it was her turn to chew and passed her the bone. And so from one to another it went around the circle until Long Body got it, and Old Man’s turn came next. His curiosity now got the better of him: he just had to see what was going on, and slowly opened one eye, the one next to Long Body. All the wolves had their heads to the ground or resting on their fore paws, and all—even Long Body, busily chewing the bone—kept their eyes tight shut. ‘Huh! This is a queer way to feast,’ Old Man said to himself, and just then a splinter flew from the bone and struck his open eye, not putting it out, but causing him great pain and making him very angry. ‘I will pay him for that!’ he thought, and waited his turn at the bone, becoming more and more angry as he waited.
“‘Your turn, Old Man,’ said Long Body after a time, and passed him the bone. Old Man took it, chewed it for a time, looking sharply at all the wolves. All had their eyes tight shut, so, raising the bone as high as he could, he brought it down with all the force of his arm upon Long Body’s head and killed him. The other wolves, hearing his twitching, as he died, opened their eyes, saw him dead, and Old Man staring in horror at what he had done.
“‘Oh, what have you done! You have killed your younger brother!’ the old wolf cried.
“‘I didn’t mean to,’ Old Man answered. ‘When he was chewing the bone he let a splinter fly, and it struck me in this eye. I meant to punish him a little for being so careless, but I did not mean to kill him. I must have struck harder than I thought to do.’
“‘You had your eyes open! It was your fault that you got the splinter!’ the old wolf said; and then he and all the rest began grieving for their dead.
“All the rest of that day, and all through the night, they howled and howled, and Old Man thought that he would go mad from the mournfulness of it all. He was very sorry—he hated himself for what he had done in his anger.
“The mourning-time over, the wolves dug a hole in the ground and buried Long Body, and then scolded Old Man. ‘Had you killed my son intentionally,’ the old wolf concluded, ‘we would have had your life in payment for his life. As it is, we will give you one more trial: see that such an accident as that never again occurs!’
“‘Younger brother,’ said Old Man, ‘I am grieving and very restless because of what I have done. I want to be moving; to be doing something. Let Heavy Body go with me up in this pine forest, and we will try to kill something.’
“The old wolf remained silent for some time, thinking, and at last answered: ‘Yes, I will allow him to go with you, and remember this: if anything happens to him, we shall hold you responsible, and great will be your punishment!’
“The two started off, and Old Man said to his partner, ‘In some ways I am wiser than you. I have this to say, and you must heed it: Whatever you start after, be it deer or elk or moose, and no matter how close you may get to it, if it crosses a stream, even a little stream that you can jump, stop right there and turn back. Mind, now, even if a few more leaps will get you to the animal’s throat, you are not to make those leaps if it crosses a stream. Should you keep on, death in some form will get you.’
“‘How do you know this?’ Heavy Body asked.
“‘I may not tell you all that I know,’ Old Man replied. ‘I have given you the warning; heed it.’
“They went farther up in the timber, and after some nosing of trails started a big bull moose, and took after it, Heavy Body running far in the lead. He was fast gaining upon it, was almost at its heels, when it jumped into a wide, long pond, really a widening of the creek, and started swimming across it to an island, and from that to the other shore. Heavy Body thought of Old Man’s warning, but said to himself: ‘He doesn’t know everything. I must have that moose!’ And into the water he went and started swimming toward the island. And just as he was nearing it a water bear sprang from the shore, and killed him, and dragged him to land, and Old Man appeared at the edge of the pond just in time to see the bear and her two nearly grown young begin feasting upon her kill. With a heart full of rage and sorrow, he turned back into the timber and considered how he could revenge the death of Heavy Body.
“Two mornings later, just before daylight, Old Man came again to the shore of the pond, and close to the edge of the water took his stand and gave himself the appearance of an old stump. Soon after sunrise the old water bear, coming out from the brush on the island, saw it, sat up and stared at it, and said to herself: ‘I do not remember having seen that stump before. I suspicion that it is Old Man, come to do me harm. I saw him right there when I killed the wolf.’
“She stared and stared at the stump, and at last called out her young, and said to one of them: ‘Go across there and bite, and claw that stump. I believe that it is Old Man. If it is, he will cry out and run when you hurt him.’
“The young bear swam across and went up to the stump, and bit, and clawed it, and hurt Old Man. He was almost on the point of giving up and running away, when it left him and went back to the island and told the old one that the stump was a stump, and nothing else. But the old one was not satisfied. She sent the other young one over, and it bit and clawed Old Man harder than its brother had, but he stood the pain, bad as it was, and that young one went back and also said that the stump was just a common old stump and without life.
“But the old water bear was not yet satisfied. She went across herself, and bit and tore at the stump with her claws, and what Old Man had suffered from the others was nothing compared to what he endured from her attack. He stood it, however, and at last, satisfied that her children had been right, that this was a stump and nothing else, she left it and started back for the island. Then it was that, just as she was entering the water, Old Man picked up the bow and arrows he had made during the two days back in the timber and shot an arrow into her, well back in the loin; but she dove under water so quickly that he could not see whether he had hit her or not. She swam under water clear around back of the island, and went ashore where he could not see her. He turned, then, and went away back in the timber, and slept all the rest of the day and all of the following night.
“Early the next morning he was approaching the pond by way of the stream running from it, when he saw a kingfisher sitting on a limb of a tree overhanging the water, and looking intently down into it: ‘Little brother, what do you there?’ he asked.
“‘The old water bear has been shot,’ the bird answered. ‘She bathes in the water, and clots of blood and pieces of fat escape from the wound, and when they come floating along here I seize them, and eat them.’
“‘Ha! So I did hit her!’ Old Man said. ‘How badly, I wonder?’
“He went on up the shore of the stream, trying to think of some way to get complete revenge for the death of Heavy Body, when he heard some one out in the brush chanting: ‘Some one has shot the old water bear! I have to doctor the old water bear! Some one has shot the old water bear! I have to doctor the old water bear!’
“He went out to see who this might be, and found that it was the bull frog, jumping about and making the chant after every jump. He went to him and asked if the bear was much hurt?
“‘There is an arrow in her loin,’ the frog answered, ‘and as soon as I find a certain medicine plant, I shall pull the arrow out and apply the crushed plant to the wound. I believe that I can save her life.’
“‘That you never will,’ Old Man said, and fired an arrow into him, and killed him. He then took his skin, put it on, tore up a handful of a green plant, and swam to the island. As soon as he reached the shore he began chanting as the frog had done: ‘Some one has shot the old water bear! I have to doctor the old water bear!’ And so, chanting and jumping, he followed a trail into the brush and came upon the old bear and her two young. She was lying on her side, breathing heavily, and her eyes were shut. Old Man bent over her, and, firmly grasping the arrow, shoved it in until it pierced her heart, and she gave a kick and died! He then picked up a club and killed the two young. ‘There! That ends the water bear family. I was crazy ever to have made her and her husband!’ he exclaimed.
“Casting off the frog skin now, he with great difficulty floated the three bears from the island to the shore of the pond. There, a short distance back from it, he found a bowl-shaped depression in the ground. Into this he dragged the carcasses of the bears, after skinning them and taking off all the fat from their meat and insides, and then he tried out the fat and poured the oil over them, completely covering them and filling the depression. He then called the animals. ‘All you who would be fat, come bathe in this oil,’ he shouted. And on all sides the animals heard and began to come in. The bears—real bears, the grizzly and the black—came first and rolled in the oil, and ever since that time they have been the fattest of all animals. Then came the skunk; next the badger; after him the porcupine, and rolled in the oil and got fat. The beaver came and swam across the oil. All that part of him above the water as he swam—his head and the forward part of his back—got no fat, but all the rest of his body—his sides, belly, and tail—became extremely fat. Last of all the animals came the rabbit. He did not go into the oil, but, dipping a paw into it, rubbed it upon his back between his shoulders and upon the inside of each leg. That is why he has no fat on other parts of his body.
“‘Well, there!’ Old Man exclaimed, after the rabbit had gone. ‘I have done some good. I have avenged the death of my wolf partner and have made fat many of my younger brothers!’ And with that he started off seeking more adventures.
“Kyi! My story ends.”